


Stitches

by Sanru



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Failed attempt at Costlemark, Friendship, Gen, Light Whump, Male Bonding, Medical Procedures, Slice of Life, fear of needles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 00:05:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11497623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanru/pseuds/Sanru
Summary: After a failed attempt to reach the lower levels of Costlemark, the exhausted and injured party retreats to a nearby haven to rest and recover.  There Prompto learns what it means to do things the ‘old fashioned way’ and how wonderful healing magic really is.





	Stitches

**Author's Note:**

> A purely self indulgent fic on my part that I felt was good enough to share. Enjoy.

There were times Prompto really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut.

It was easy to take magic for granted especially when it came to the healing magic found in potions.  Without Noct’s little boost, most potions were nothing more than an energy drink.  In some cases a horrible tasting energy drink that reminded him more of cough syrup than anything else.  Most people weren't lucky enough to have Crown Prince in their group blessed with magic from the Crystal.

Most people had to do it the 'old fashion way’ and then pour an herbal remedy or some disinfectants on it.  Prompto had made the mistake of asking what that meant and Gladio decided that his was going to be a good learning experience for him.  Nevermind the fact that he had sprained his ankle and really didn't have much of a choice in the matter.  One that Gladio had just finished wrapping up and laying an chemical ice pack over from their rather robust first aid kit.  Prompto was starting to feel a little set up.

The ruins of Costlemark Tower sucked which was putting it mildly.  They had gone down and down and down into this freakily huge basement cavern thing, getting attacked left and right by all kinds of deamons, some of which could nearly kill them in one hit.  They were taking curatives like addicts most of the time and then they had found the cube labyrinth death trap thing near the very end.  After going through it three times and barely scraping through the last fight with three red giants and their entourage of other baddies, Ignis had insisted on a strategic withdrawal.  He pointed out that they were down to their last potion and they had been running through that mess for the better part of three days.  No one argued with him and, if anything, they gleefully ran back towards the exit occasionally pushing and shoving each other as they scrambled to just get the hell out of there first.

Walking up into the waning sunlight had never been so uplifting.  The forest was calm and peaceful, with a gentle breeze blowing up from the valley below, the humidity was low for a change.  All and all it was a perfect day.  A nice little reminder that they were still alive and -more importantly to a claustrophobic person like himself- finally above ground.

Of course, this was the perfect time for the wildlife of Duscae to remind them how much it hated them with a burning passion.  The hundlegs had come out of nowhere in a classic ambush, rearing up from the ground in all their giant, icky bug-ness.  Prompto may have screamed -NOT as high pitched as Gladio claimed- out a warning that came too little and way too late.  The next few minutes had consisted of flailing weapons, maybe some incoherent screaming, people and giant bugs falling all over each other in a tangled mass of limbs and thoraxes, Ignis’ glasses being knocked off, Gladio cursing a blue streak, Noctis nearly being bitten in half and the absolute chaos had finally ended with a firaga spell that blackened half the hillside, killed the remaining hundlegs and left them all a little crispy around the edges...

… it had not been one of their finer moments.

After the dust had settled, they took stock of the damage. Noct was immediately given their last potion by Ignis before he could bleed to death. Prompto had sprained his ankle when he had lost his footing and fell over a dead branch or a hundleg or maybe it was Noctis for all he knew.  He was more concerned with a jammed handgun than what he was falling over at the time.  Gladio -the lucky sod according to Ignis- was uninjured but had unfortunately found Ignis’ glasses after stepping on them.  Ignis was less than amused but did little in the way of actually complaining because of the pain he was in.  One of the hundlegs had managed to slice open his shoulder, leaving a gash from the top down the length of the blade to just above his floating rib.  It wasn't that deep but it was long and ‘hurt a bloody lot more than I am letting on so stop messing with it Gladio!’

Between their injuries, their lack of potions, and the fact it was now dusk, there was a unanimous vote amongst them to spend the night at the nearby haven and deal with Ignis and Prompto's injuries the ‘old fashioned way’.  They could drive over to the rest area in the morning to restock everything and to rent a hotel room long enough for everyone to have a shower.  All of them had a limit to how much dirt caked on their skin and the stench of oppressive body odor they could take.  Some of the party’s tolerances were a lot less than others and when the one with the smallest limit was also in charge of the group's finances, there was always a rented hotel room or caravan long enough for everyone to have a shower every two to three days.

So now Prompto found himself sitting next to Ignis, ankle already wrapped and with an ice pack over it, getting ready to watch Gladio stitch his shoulder together.

Stitch his shoulder together.

Like he was simply  _ mending _ a shirt.

“How can you be so calm about all this?” His voice was little more than a squeak.  He felt like he was about to twitch out of his own skin as he fiddled with the hem of his shirt and he wasn't even the one getting stitches.  

Ignis was lying on a sleeping bag next to the fire on his stomach and looking slight irritated by the whole mess. His ruined shirt was still on which was probably not helping his mood at all.  It had been gray but most of it was swept away by the ochre pool radiating out away from the hastily wrapped wound.  One arm was folded up under his head to support his neck while his other arm - which was the arm connected to the injured shoulder- lay along his side.  He looked entirely too relaxed as far as Prompto was concerned.  

Ignis let out a patient, long suffering sigh before speaking, “Because despite your reservations, this procedure is actually quite common in the medical field.  The most painful part will be when Gladio initially disinfects the area and even then it will be dampened by the medication he has already given me.”  It had to be the fifth time he had tried to reassure the blond sitting next to him.  Ignis was pretty sure he was going to be saying it a few more times in the near future. 

“You mean the pill I half shoved down your throat while you were hovering around the stove when you should have already been laying down?” Gladio asked as he set an unobtrusive black bag down next to Ignis.  Prompto eyed it warily.  It was their rarely used and ridiculously over stocked first aid kit, that Ignis and Gladio both insisted on having close at hand at all times even when it was completely pointless…. Except for situations like their current one.  Still, Prompto didn't doubt that there were some horrors in there he rather not know about.  “Don't forget if he poisons us all it's your fault for insisting he did the cooking.”

“ _ He _ can cook and hear just fine thank you,” Noctis grumbled from where he stood at the table next to their camp stove.  Being the only one not injured or in the middle of patching Ignis up, cooking detail had fallen on the Prince.  Ignis had drilled him on some very specific instructions before Gladio had managed to drag him away to the sleeping bag he now laid on. “I'm not as good as Specs but I can cook anything with less than four steps on the side of the box.”

“And when in doubt: add salt!” Prompto couldn't resist saying. 

“No, do not add anymore salt.  There is enough salt in the tortellini alone to flavor the dish.” Ignis made to get up but Gladio just put a hand down in the center of his back to stop him.

“Don't even think of it Iggy,” Gladio kept his hand on Ignis’ back as if he expected the other to bolt if he let up.  “I will sit on you if I have to.  That wound has been mostly untreated for over an hour which is about fifty five minutes too long for my liking.  Stay put.”  

Ignis sighed as he settled back down onto the sleeping bag, “You're being overly dramatic.  It hasn't been more than thirty minutes.” Gladio didn't bother responding.  Only when Ignis was laying still again did Gladio take the hand off his back and began digging around in the first aid kit again.

Prompto fidgeted again as Gladio began pulling out several vacuum sealed and sterilized packets out of the bag.  He couldn't really see the contents of any of them but his mind filled in the gaps with all sorts of archaic and medieval implements of torture and death as far as he was concerned.  They were razor sharp miniature saws and blocks filled with rows of nails with the points facing the patient/victim.  

Which in this case was Ignis.

Prompto felt like he was going to throw up.

“Prompto,” Ignis said sounding kind of far away to him.  “Are you alright?  You're a tad pale.”

“I'm good,” he choked out eyes still fixed on the bag and what Gladio had pulled out of it as if something was about leap up and bite him.  Gladio had them arranged in some kind of order that only he seemed to know.  “Just trying not to freak out.”

“You don't look like you're being very successful there,” Prompto managed to pull his eyes away from the bags to see Gladio giving him a hard look.  Over his shoulder, Prompto could see that Noctis had turned around to get a good look at him.  His friend wasn't much for expressions but the slight pinch between his eyes meant he had either found a very vexing problem or he was worried about something.  “Do you want to lie down?” Gladio asked already moving to stand up.

“No, no I'm good,” Prompto said waving Gladio off.  The bodyguard paused for a moment in his half kneeling position as Prompto continued, “Just… my imagination’s kinda running away on me.”

Gladio continued his searching look for a moment longer before going back to his previous position.  “Alright, but if you feel like you're about to pass out move away from the fire.  If you think stitching up a shoulder is bad, you don't want to know what the treatment for third degree burns is.”

Now that there was some color back in Prompto’s face, Noctis went back to cutting up some carrots -which he fully planned on putting on everyone's dish but his- and Gladio slid on a pair of latex gloves he had pulled from a small dispenser in the bag itself.  “Do you want to try and salvage the shirt, Iggy?” He asked as he opened one of the packets and pulled out a small pair of scissors.  “I can cut it up along the seam.”

“Don't bother,” despite the color back in his face, Ignis was keeping a close eye on Prompto.  He was close enough that Ignis was sure he could reach out and pull him away from the fire if he fainted and fell towards it.  “This shirt is made out of a blend of jersey cotton and rayon which is difficult to sew on a machine let alone by hand without the proper prep work.  Best to cut it off and I’ll buy another shirt when we are back in town.”

Gladio rolled his eyes as he took the scissors to the back of Ignis' shirt.  Leave it to him to know what fabrics he could hand stitch and which required 'prep work’ whatever the hell that meant.  Snipping through the bottom hem and then running the blade up along his back as Gladio pulled the shirt away from the skin made sure that he didn't inadvertently catch it with the scissors.  He carefully cut through the hem at the back of the neck and then across the top of the injured shoulder well away from the injury but through part of the wrapping for the temporary bandage he had put on earlier.

He cut the bottom part of the wrap free so that he could pull the shirt away from Ignis, leaving his side and injured shoulder exposed but left the rest of the shirt where it was.  Duscae was pretty warm but he still didn't want Ignis to get to cold.  It was why his injured side was facing the fire and Gladio was leaning over him to deal with it.  He slipped the scissors back into their bag and then opened another one.  

Leaving its contents inside it for now, Gladio reached over with his other hand and carefully lifted the trauma pad he had originally pressed into Ignis’ should before wrapping it with gauze to put pressure on the wound.  The cut was still stubbornly bleeding in spots and him removing the pressure on it hadn't helped.  At least it was more of a sluggish trickle now and not the torrent it had been earlier.  Gladio sop up some of the excess blood with the used dressing in his hand before tossing it in the large open bag next to him.  He was going to have to see about disposing of the biohazard bag the next time they were near a roadside clinic or the hospital in Lestallum and probably restocking the whole kit while he was at it.

“Alright Iggy,” he said as he pulled the alcohol wipe from a packet and wiped down the skin around the wound to cleaning the excess blood from him.  “I'm going to give you a local and then get ready to irrigate the wound while it takes effect.”

Ignis blinked and lift his head enough to glare over his shoulder at Gladio.  “I thought you already gave me one,” he said suspiciously.  

“I gave you an aspirin,” Gladio huffed as he took out another alcohol wipe from its packaging and continued to clean the area around the site.  “And don't say you don't need it.  This is going to hurt like hell.”

Ignis opened his mouth to say something but a small yelp from the stove drew everyone's’ attention.  Noctis ignored them as he grabbed the pot lid and covered the pan of oil now on fire to smother it.  He glared at it for a moment before giving his nod of respect to his now vanquished foe.  As if realizing that he was being watched, Noctis guilty turned his head to look over at them, or more precisely, Ignis.

Who reacted with typical abomb.

“Noctis!  I told you not to heat the oil too long!” He moved to get up, “You are not deep fryi-”

His rant was cut off as a heavy weight settled on the top of his thighs and an elbow was pressed into his good shoulder.  Ignis had only manage to lift himself about an inch before he was forced back down.  His wound throbbed warningly.  “Oof!  Gladio!” He snapped as he glared over his shoulder again.  “Get off me!”

“I told you I would sit on you if you tried to get up,” he growled right back from his perch on Ignis’ upper thighs as he leaned an elbow down into his good shoulder to pin his upper body in place and not contaminate his gloves.  “You are staying put until I’m done, got it?!”

Ignis went to move his arm out from under his head only for it to be grabbed and held in place.  “Prompto!” Ignis was more shocked by the sudden betrayal of their gunner.  Prompto shuffled closer so he could put his hand down on the cloth cover part of Ignis’ back as close to his spine as he could manage to hold him in place.  With Gladio sitting on his thighs and trapping his other arm in place with his leg, Ignis was well pinned unless he wanted to really fight them and he wasn't that stubborn.  After all they were only thinking of his health no matter how annoyingly they were going about it.

“I got him,” Prompto said as he shifted about to get more comfortable.  Ignis huffed but didn't say anything more or the matter.  “Go back to doing whatever you were doing,” he said smiling at Gladio.

“Suck up,” came the half heard words from over near the camping stove.

“Are you done trying to light yourself on fire?” Gladio asked as he sat up and reached for small packet and more alcohol wipes.  Noctis grumbled something and waved a hand at them which Gladio assumed meant he was fine and knew what he was doing.  Mostly.

“Uncultured brutes,” Ignis grumbled as he settled into his new position.  There was a light tone of resignation in his voice so they  knew he wasn't really angry or that resentful for their actions but neither Prompto nor Gladio moved from where they were pinning him down.  Just in case.

The packet had a small syringe in it.  Carefully, Gladio injected the novocaine at several points around the injury, wiping the site before and after with a different pad each time.  Prompto choose to look at Noct's back as he moved around the camp’s kitchen, putting something to sizzle in a pan different from the one he had lit on fire earlier, and resolutely not looking at the needle.

“Okay,” Gladio said as he tossed the last wipe and replaced the cap on the sharp before tossing that in the biohazard bag as well.  He stripped off his gloves as he sat up, tossing those in the biohazard too before reaching over and dragging the whole kit closer to him so he could prepare for round two.  “That'll start working here shortly and then I can actually do something about that.” The wound was still bleeding, Gladio cleaning the area and putting pressure on his skin had only irritated it further causing it to bleed a bit more than before.  Gladio bunched up the fabric of the ruined shirt next to Ignis so that it wouldn't soak into the sleeping bag.

Prompto looked at the wound and then at the collection of packets and vacuum sealed bags Gladio was pulling from the kit.  “Are you really going to use all of that?” He had to ask as Gladio dumped two whole handfuls of sealed alcohol wipes on the sleeping bag next to Ignis.  

“No,” Gladio put some more gauze out and placed the bottle of saline close at hand.  “This,” he gestured to the pile next to his leg.  “Is for emergencies.  Like if Ignis moves and ruptures a blood vessel.”  He moved his hand up to the collection of materials within easier reach.  “This is what I'll be using for the actual procedure.”

“It's known as mise en place,” Ignis spoke up, his voice only partially strained from being pinned down like he was.  “More commonly applied to cooking than medicinal practices but it has merit here as well.  It means that everything has a place and to be prepared for anything.”

“Never let an opportunity to wow us with that big head of yours, huh Iggy?” Gladio asked as he snapped on another pair of gloves.  He opened a packet and Prompto's eyes went wide at the scalpel he removed.  “Tell me if you can feel anything,” he said as he lightly pressed the tip on the blade into Ignis' back near the wound.

“No.”

“How about here,” Gladio asked as he moved the blade to a different spot.

“No.”

“Here?”

“No.”

“Here?”

“A faint pressure, nothing more.”

The spot Ignis had indicated where he could still feel some sensation was near the last injection site, so Gladio felt it was safe enough to continue without hurting Ignis.  He open several packets of trauma pads and set them near by before opening the bottle of saline solution, keeping the scalpel pinched between two fingers as he worked.  “Alright, going to start irrigating the wound.  Tell me if you feel anything outside of a slight pressure.”  Ignis just nodded in agreement and Gladio set to work.

Prompto watched in morbid fascination as Gladio squeezed the bottle in one hand so that its contents ran through the wound and out the other side to be collected by the pad he held at ready.   He did it several more times, changing the angle each time to clean out the wound completely.  Prompto glanced down at Ignis who still looked annoyed at being held down but didn't seemed to notice Gladio flush out his injury.  Prompto felt an odd ache on his shoulder blade in a sympathetic ghost of the sensation.

Gladio suddenly flipped around the scalpel around and sliced away at the edge of the wound in Ignis’ skin.

Prompto made a sound of disbelief, with some inarticulate anger on the side and somehow managed to swallowed his tongue all at the same time.

Everyone in the camp gave him a concerned look.

Instead of answering verbally he looked at Gladio, down at the wound and then back at Gladio and made another slightly angered and very disbelieving noise.

“Prom?  Are you okay?” Noctis finally asked still stirring the spoon in one of the pots on the camp stove.

“Gladio… you-” he pointed a scandalized finger at the bodyguard as he finally remembered how to speak again.  “You cut him,” he accused.

Gladio blinked at his trembling finger and then looked past it at Prompto.  “Yeah?” he said still not entirely sure what Prompto was going on about. 

“Well are you going to stab him next?!” Prompto snapped not entirely sure of what he was supposed to be doing right now.  He wasn’t about to let Gladio hurt Ignis again but he also knew his chances in an actual  fight with Gladio.  They were pretty much they were non existent.

Thankfully that seemed to clue Gladio in onto what he was freaking out about.  “Ifrit’s left ass cheek,” he grumbled as he focused back on the wound, irrigating it again so he could flush out the fresh blood.  “I have to trim up the sides of the wound so I can stitch it closed, Prom.  Trust me, I’m not taking that much off.”  He said as he took the scalpel to Ignis’ back again.  

Prompto was about to snap again but Ignis spoke up before he could say anything.  “Think of it like hemming a shirt before stitching it together Prompto.  The seam is easier to stitch with two clean hems to deal with instead of jagged edges.”

Thinking about Ignis so calmly refer to his skin as fabric made Prompto’s stomach roll again.  “How can you be so freaking calm!” Prompto half shouted the last word looking down at Ignis and gesticulating in Gladio’s general direction.  “He’s cutting into your back and you aren’t even reacting.”

“Because I can’t  _ feel _ anything, Prompto.”  Despite laying on his stomach, in the middle of a medical procedure and with Gladio still sitting on the back of his thighs, Ignis still wielded a considerable amount of authority.  The stern, no nonsense voice was enough to make Prompto stop panicking and look at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.  Ignis held his gaze captive easily, looking up over the rim of his glasses, “The novocaine is preventing me from feeling anything more than a light pressure here and there on my back as Gladiolus works.  Now relax.  Both Gladio and I attended the same medical treatment courses.  I have full confidence in his abilities to stitch my shoulder closed.  He knows what he is doing.”

“Yeah, this is coming from the guy who basically browbeat me into studying with him every Thursday morning and Sunday night,” Gladio said still focusing on cleansing and preparing the wound before him.  

“I am surprised you are complaining now,” Ignis twisted his head enough to get a good look at Gladio out of the corner of his eye.  “I didn’t hear any complaints when I served you breakfast and dinner while we were studying.”

“That’s because you don’t make those ginger cookie snap cake bar things anymore.”  Gladio threw out the used trauma pad and reached for another.  Definitely going to have to restock the kit when they got back to Lestallum.  It had been a long time he had done anything remotely like this and he wanted to be sure that he was doing everything right.  More time and more thoroughly meant more supplies being used.  The last thing Ignis needed was an infected wound so it was worth it as far as he was concerned.  “Seriously why did you stop making those?”

“Wait, hold up,” Noctis suddenly said turning away from the stove to look at Ignis.  “You mean to tell me you weren’t dating someone on Sunday nights?”  Before Ignis could say anything to the contrary Noctis continued.  “Geez Specs and here I had though you had finally gotten yourself a social life or a girlfriend or something.”

It was only because of where he was sitting that Prompto saw a faint dusting of pink on Ignis’ cheeks.  “I have a very active social life Noct.  It just happens to revolve around only three individuals.”

“Aw...and that’s why we love you Iggy,” Gladio said finally ready to begin actually stitching the wound closed.  The wound had most stopped bleeding now.  He reached for the last unopened packets that held a suture kit.

“Seriously Specs we need to get you a girl,” Noctis continued even as he turned his back on them, still futzing about in their kitchen area.  “Or at least laid.”

“Maybe we could hook him up with Holly?” Prompto said playfully, ignoring the glare he was getting from Ignis this time around.  It wasn’t as potent if he wasn’t looking at him.

“Or maybe Sania,” Noct agreed.

“Cind-”

“Dude!  No!  Don't even!”

Gladio tried again after Prompto's outburst.  “Araena would be a hell of a catch.”  He opened the kit, giving a Ignis a slight nudge on his good shoulder with the back of his gloved hand.  “What do you say, lover boy?  Think you can bag her?”

Ignis rolled his eyes at the juvenile discussion though he began to play along with his friends.  “I doubt that I could woo her in any traditional sense.  The fact that she is also a mercenary -currently employed by the Empire I might add- equates to a unique wrinkle in the attempted courtship.”

“Sounds like we got a winner,” there was a smile in Noctis voice as he continued.  “You’re always up for a challenge.”

“Yeah good luck winning the dragoon’s he-” Prompto’s voice let out an impressive squeak as he looked away from Noctis and back at Gladio only to see he had what look like a pair of flat scissors pressing down against the edge of the wound.  Trailing behind it was a dark thread and, as he watched, Gladio finished the motion in his wrist, rolling it over.  

And then Prompto saw the Needle come up from the other side.

Prompto looked at the small thing in fascination.  It didn’t look at all like what he had expected.  It was a small arc, maybe only an inch long if it was straightened, that Gladio had clasped in what the scissor things.  Forceps maybe?  He wasn’t sure what the term was but his eyes were glued to the small needle as Gladio used the scissor-eque things to draw the needle and thread out enough so he could grab the thread with his hand.  He brought the thread over, wrapped it a couple times around the scissors -clamps maybe?- and then lightly pulled the two apart, leaving a neat and tidy little knot holding the two sides of the wound together on Ignis’ back.

“Prompto!” He jerked in surprise at Noct’s voice so close to his ear and the hand that landed on his shoulder.  “Are you alright?”

He looked worried and it was then that Prompto realized how spaced out he was.  Ignis was holding onto one of his hands, fingers curled down around his wrist enough that Prompto tell he was checking his pulse.  He felt a tad lightheaded and could only assume he was as white as a sheet judging by everyone’s reactions.  Gladio had snipped the loose threads on either side of the knot he had just made before giving him a once over.  

“I-I just thought,” he paused and licked his lips, noticing absently that the were numb, and pointed at the needle ready to put another stitch into Ingis’ shoulder.  “That it would be more straight and you’d be,” Prompto moved his hand as if he was doing an exaggerated loop stitch in a piece of fabric.  “Kind of like more... y’know.  Needlepoint or something.”

Gladio snorted in amusement and shook his head, “No.  Definitely not.”

“While it is easier to explain sutures by using fabric stitches as an example they are two very unique practices.”  He looked at Noctis next.  “Noct, you need to stir the sauce less it boils over.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled but still hesitated a moment longer.  Wanting to make sure that Prompto didn’t pass out on them and fall in the fire or something.  He still seemed a little spaced out like he had been earlier but at least there was some color back on his cheeks.  “You sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah… Peachy.  Never better!”

Noctis didn’t believe him for a second but dutifully returned to the stove with only a couple pats on his shoulder as they parted.  As he went to leave he caught Ignis’ eyes with his own and his advisor tipped his head in a small barely noticeable nod to assure him everything was well in hand.  Ignis would keep a close eye on Prompto as a precaution.

Prompto was oblivious to their silent communication, watching in morbid fascination as Gladio tied another neat knot into Ignis’ shoulder.  He made it look so easily and effortless.  A flick of the wrist, several wraps of the thread around the head of the scissors-esque thing, and then gently pull the thread in opposite directions and leave a small, snug little knot in Ignis' shoulder.  Gladio was spacing them close together, bring the edges of the wound in a neat line broken up by small neat little knots.  It was kind of pretty in an oddly macabre kind of away.

“Stopping watching if it's making you uncomfortable Prom.”  Gladio suggested as he went through the process again.  He was keeping the stitches a little closer together than normal to minimize scarring so he was guessing about thirty two stitches altogether.

“I'm fine it's just…” he glanced down at Ignis, eyes flicking back up to the wound.  “You really aren't feeling that?”

Ignis had been keeping a close eye on Prompto incase he nearly fainted again and while he was still worryingly pale he did seem to be doing better.  “Occasional pressure and a faint tug now and again,” he assured him.  “Other than that nothing.”

Prompto looked back up and watched Gladio go through the motions again.  He was still uncomfortable watching the process but he couldn't look away.  It was hard to believe that this was how people not toting around a magic Prince healed a long, fairly deep cuts like this.  “And this is really what most people do to heal themselves?” 

“Yeah,” he was almost done which was good.  Gladio's legs and back were killing him from being half crouched over Ignis’ back while straddling his thighs.  Gods there was about half a dozen innuendos he could be making right now if he didn't think Ignis would rip his stitches out turning to smack him in the head or something.  “Holding the wound closed like this helps to prevent infections while the skin fuses itself back together.  Makes keeping the area clean easier too.  You don't have a gaping wound to deal with.  Just a thin line instead.”

“Of course the most prudent course of action would be not to get hurt in the first place therefore negating any need for stitches at all,” Ignis said as he shifted his good hand around enough to push his glasses up and pinch the bridge of his nose he had a minor headache beginning to set in but that was probably more from the lack of sleep then his wound.

“How come you never seem to get hurt Gladio?” Noctis had to ask over his shoulder as he turned the contents of the pan over.

“Because I know the fine art of defense unlike some people,” Noctis huffed at the jab but didn’t say anything back.  Gladio could have added more but Ignis movement had caught his attention.  “How are you holding up?” he asked even as he continued to work.

“A minor headache.  Most likely due to lack of sleep and food.” He assured Gladio as he rested his chin back onto his arm.  Prompto's hand was still on his back and began to rub gentle circles into it.  Ignis flashed him a slight smile at the small comfort.  

Two more left and then Gladio could get him bandaged up and sitting up enough to eat before bundling him and everyone else off to bed.  Exhaustion was currently their middle names after all.  “Almost done here and then we get to see if Noctis has managed to make something at least semi edible.  

“I’ll dance on your grave if you do,” he grumbled without any malice in his voice as he moved to set out the plates to begin serving.  By the sounds of it the others would be ready for food in the next few minutes.  “I followed Specs instructions to the letter.  You shouldn't be able to complain about anything.”

“The fact I receited a recipe to you that only required the opening of jars, boxes and plastic containers notwithstanding, means that anyone could cook such a meal.  The most difficult thing required of you was not to cut off your fingers while chopping the vegetables,” Ignis said tiredly and resist the urge to pinch at his nose again.  The headache didn't seem to want to ease up at all.

“Done,” Gladio said as he snipped the threads off the last knot.  “Let me just tape something over it and we can get you sat back up,” he set the suture kit aside and picked up a trauma pad and a roll of medical tape.  

“I would be more than happy if you got off me now,” Ignis grumbled half heartedly.  Gladiolus had warned him and he didn't do anything by halves or go back on his word.

Gladio ignored him, taking a moment to make sure that the pad was large enough to cover the injury before setting it over the wound.  He then tore off enough medical tape to cover all around the edges of the pad so that nothing could work its way in.  “There,” he sat up and stripped off his gloves, ignoring the dull ache in his back that accompanied the movement.  He should have moved around more to prevent his muscles from cramping up like that.  “Good as it can get till we get a potion in you tomorrow.”

“How long does it usually take to heal,” Prompto asked as Galdio did a quick clean up before getting off of Ignis.  The advisor sighed in relief and started to get up on his own.  He gave Gladio a look as that the other man ignored as he helped Ignis to sit up and strip off the remains of his ruined shirt.

“Depends on the injury,” Gladio said as he grabbed one of his tee shirts he had set off to the side earlier and forced it up over Ignis’ injured arm and then down over his head before he could react or attempt to move his injured shoulder at all.  “If he wasn't getting a potion tomorrow he'd probably have those stitches in for six to eight days.” 

“Gladio, I can dress myself,” Ignis snapped irritably as his head came out through the neck hole.

“Well, I don't what to see you tearing out the stitches I just put in your shoulder.”  He growled right back, undaunted by the glare he was getting.  This was why he hated it when Ignis was hurt.  The man was an absolute bear to deal with when he was injured or sick or even overworked.  Gladio swore Ignis hated being helped or asking for help regardless of the task.  The fact he was tired and probably had a rip roaring caffeine headache wasn't helping matters any.  “So deal with it.”

“Time to eat,” Noctis said stepping over with two full plates, hoping to defuse the situation somewhat.  Really they were all tired and hungry so it wasn't surprising that tempers were flaring.

Prompto took his plate without complaint as he watched Gladio bodily lifted a less than pleased advisor and practically dropped him into the closest camp chair.  Ignis drew himself up like he was going to say something about the manhandling but Noctis slipped between them and pressed the other plate into his hands.  “Here Specs.  Tell me if it meets your approval.”

There was a fork balanced on the edge of the plate and, after another scathing look at Gladio for the rough treatment, Ignis picked up the fork and took a bite.  The sauce still had some lumps in it and the meat was slightly overcooked but all in all Noctis had done a good job in following his instructions despite lighting the oil in the pan on fire earlier.  “Good work Noctis,” he pointed the fork at the plate that Noctis was keeping for himself.  “Though I think your serving of vegetables is somewhat lacking.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled a bit on the annoyed side himself.  There was tomatoes in the sauces so he was getting some veggies. 

“You sure you don’t want to sit in a chair Prompto?” Gladio asked as he handed Ignis a mug of tea.  Despite the late hour he had picked up one of the weaker caffeinated teas they had if only to try and ease the advisor’s caffeine withdrawal symptoms a little.

“Nah,” Prompto waved him off even as Noctis sat down beside him with two mugs of water for the two of them and his own plate.  “It’s comfy down here.”

Gladio shrugged and took his plate from the side table where he had motioned for Noctis to leave there while he made Ignis some tea.  He grabbed one of the other chairs and pulled it a bit closure so that he could sit on the opposite side of Ignis while they ate.

“Hmph… not bad,” Gladio conceded after a few bites of his meal.  It was nowhere near on Ignis’ level of cooking but the tortellini in tomato sauce with sauteed vegetables and breaded daggerquil breasts was still pretty good.  And rather filling.  “I guess you can cook.”

“Glad you approve,” Noct said as he sipped from his mug.

“So, tomorrow we get to have a really big breakfast before driving to the nearest Crow’s Nest and having a really big lunch right?”  After three days of nothing but protein bars and trail mix, Prompto was ready to utterly surrender to his inner fat kid and devour everything in sight.  Especially if the food looked like a burger and fries with a milkshake or a whole plate of bacon.  He doubted that he would get much of an argument on that front.  

Noct nodded in agreement, a chunk of breaded meat being stuffed into his mouth.

“Yes, I see no reason why a bit of a splurge in regards to our diets is concerned.”  Ignis agreed as forked up some more pasta.  “We can also replenish our supply of curatives at the nearby petrol station.”

“So what do you think of doing things the old fashioned way, Prompto,” Gladio had to ask as he sipped from his mug.  “At the rate we’re going you’ll probably get a few more lessons in traditional medicine.”

“Eh…” he still wasn’t a fan of needles and the seeing Gladio put stitches into Ignis shoulder still made his skin crawl but it was kind of interesting.   In a rather morbid, unsettling way.  “I’m… really kinda glad we have a magical Prince kicking around that makes it all kind of pointless!”  Prompto said thumping Noctis on the back good naturedly.

Noctis choked, grabbing at his throat as the unexpected hit lodged a piece of daggerquil breast in his throat.

“Moving onto studying assassinations now, Prompto,” Ignis drawled calmly after Gladio quickly waved at him to stay sitting as he set his plate and drink aside.    
  
Gladio moved quickly over so that he was behind Noctis and fell to his knees behind him before looking over at the stricken blond.  “Lesson one was how to put in stitches.  Lesson two is called the Heimlich maneuver.”  Gladio held up one finger and gave Prompto a wink, “Watch closely.”


End file.
